The Fall of Man
by iamtheletter13
Summary: Beyond knows that the man across the hall is about to die, and L investigates how. Augmented canon universe. LxBB, BBxL, BBxLight, implied AxL, BBxA. Smut with a plot. Please review.
1. Doorways

Doorways

May 9th

Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of this continuous game. Tired. So, so tired. I can't help this unbearable hate, this searing pain, the fact that my ears bleed but they really don't. They really don't. Nothing really hurts anymore, just this all-around, gentle ache, keeping me aware of the Hell I have been sentenced to. I scribble on the walls even though I'm not supposed to, even though the orderlies scold me for it. I've gone over it so much with the pen, then the pencil, then the markers, then the crayons. Now my walls are colorful, manic nonsense, the equation that's an inside joke to those of us who know, the all-to-appropriate "self portraits". There's another inside joke; I don't look like that anymore.

Only three of us are in on this joke; the woman, me, and the detective I spent my life chasing after. It makes me sick to look at sometimes, even sicker to know that my skin, once charred and blackened, then patched together like Frankenstein's monster, has been smoothed into softer scarring. It's everywhere, this discolored mess, puffy and jutting where the flames licked my flesh more thoroughly, tight, like stretched leather, where it missed and chewed only on my clothing. I hate looking at myself now, I've broken every mirror that the orderlies have tried to give me, even smashed the little window that looks out into the hallway. I succeeded in breaking my knuckles, but the message was received, and I no longer get mirrors after my mandatory haircut or wake up from a drugged haze to find the shattered glass in my bathroom replaced with crisp, clean scars.

There has been an interesting development. There is a man across the hall, and his time is running out. I can see every day flicker away from him, and it's so alluring, here in this expanse of the same. I watch him carefully, and I even warned my therapist that he would die, but all I got was more eyes on me and separation from him. It's funny; I never said I was going to kill him, just that he would die. Today is the day, and I've been waiting patiently with a book, not really reading it. His name is Lewis Brown. Doesn't even ring, doesn't even work, but it's alright. His first name starts with and L and his last name starts with a B, which makes me incredibly happy. I love it when things work out.

So here I am, waiting for this stranger across the hall to die, scribbling in my journal. I miss the old days, back before I left, back before everything went so wrong. When did it happen? It seems like several lifetimes ago, before disappearing, before murder, before getting caught. Above all else, I miss L. Wonder if he'll visit me to investigate how I knew Lewis was going to die? Oh, look, he's bleeding out. Slit his wrists, I'll bet. Gnawed right through the veins. Oh, how perfect. Here are the orderlies, come too late to fix anything, staring me down.


	2. Wet and Sticky

Wet and Sticky

"You must be mistaken." L said, his voice shaking through the telephone.

"I wish I was." Replied the familiar voice on the other side.

L had just started on the Kira case, catching the murderer who killed murderers, when Watari informed him of Beyond being a suspect in an unusual death. The doctors at the mental asylum he had been sent to reported a suicide to the public, but B had known. Of course he had known. Before incarceration, L had specifically requested that any strange behavior be reported directly to him and kept classified. There was speculation about whether B was lying or not when he had told about his eyes. It was a quiet confession during his childhood years, when L asked how he knew his name, Beyond immediately adapting a new nickname to his mentor.

"I can see it, above your head. Floating red letters. Everybody has them." Said the male, innocent and unbroken.

The real trouble surrounded the death of A. There were several warnings, one that resulted in a one-sided shouting match, about the impending demise of B's only rival. Roger kept a very close eye on the wrong boy, and on the day that Beyond had mentioned, A kicked a chair out from under his feet and snapped his neck with his bed sheet, hanging from a ceiling fan.

B was never the same. He carried himself with a bitter animosity, like he was alone, never again mentioning his unearthly power. It was speculated that the boy knew how troubled A was, that his shattered mind conjured up sequences of death, that he didn't quite understand what his subconscious was telling him. The problem was, this would be number two, the second death he anticipated, this time with collected, calm words, and he was ignored again.

L set out, knowing that he could complete his current task in a matter of days, then be back on the Kira case, having solved this darker mystery. He landed in the Los Angeles air port, dragging behind him one suitcase and a bag with his laptop in it. There would be a drive, then more waiting at the hospital, then the detective would be able to confront his old successor face to face. He was dreading every second, clinging to the time spent in the car and in the waiting room.

After all those years of silence, never seeing the monster he had created, this would be a jagged reunion, at least on his part. The obsession that B – all of his successors, really – had for him would probably make the twisting anxiety one sided. L hoped, for his sake, that it wasn't, that B was dreading their meeting, too. It was never that simple, though.

The door to the meeting room buzzed before it slid open, and the thin male slipped inside. The two cameras that were set up for safety were unplugged, and the room was empty, save a table, two chairs, and the murderer himself. L stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood near the door, dark eyes slowly moving up from the floor. He knew that whatever condition B was in, it would be incredibly unpleasant, and his stomach was twisting at the very thought.

When black orbs finally found the courage to look at the scarred man, his lips parted and he lost the emotionless ploy he usually maintained. He was right; it was terrible, every inch of scared flesh a pinprick in L's side. He let out a shaking breath, composed himself, then sat in the metal chair across from the murderer, slipping his shoes off and pulling his knees to his chest.

There was silence for a while, what seemed like hours to L, before Beyond cleared his throat, snapping the detective out of his thoughts. He had settled his gaze on the only thing that remained unchanged after the fire; those red-tinted eyes, but the madness behind them only made L more uneasy.

"Are you going to talk, or did you come here just to stare?" There was real amusement in Beyond's tone, but the razors behind it made L shift about in his seat.

"Lewis Brown." Was all L said, was all he needed to say, and the victorious smirk on the other man's face grew into a demented grin.

"I saw him bleed under the door. Is he alright?" Beyond knew full well that Lewis was dead, and L knew that B knew.

"How did you know?" L snapped in reply, not angry, but the mock curiosity he always used with people who needed to be convinced that he was trying hard to get the truth.

With a display that B hoped would put the other male into the state he had been in upon seeing his scarred form for the first time, the murderer pulled his hand, cuffed firmly to the metal chair, to his mouth, where he gently nibbled on the skin of his wrist. Never blinking or taking his wild eyes away from his idol, he pulled back up, chuckling lightly to himself.

"Sorry, I had an itch. I think Mr. Brown had one, too." Then he was laughing.

It started as a low, breathy laugh, then grew to a wild, wheezing, dark roll. He sat forward, landing his damaged forehead on the table, mouth hanging open as he continued his amusement, sighing when he was finally done with the joke. He sat back, hitting the chair hard, and his expression was cold, a frown on his lips.

"You don't get an answer unless I get something." His tone was sharp and menacing, like he was preparing to simply stand up and leave at any moment.

"What do you want?" asked the detective.

"You."

Of course he did. L wasn't really surprised, but he averted his gaze nonetheless. That had always been unthinkable, letting Beyond have his way, so L gave a monotonous, unmeaning smile. Because the look on his successor's face was perfect, the detective found the courage to catch his gaze. B was scowling back at him, having been quite serious.

"You cannot posses another human being, Beyond." L replied easily, and there was a vicious growl from the other male.

"Like Hell you can't." He spat in return, tugging on the chains that kept him from strangling the man he hated more than anything else.

There was another moment of silence, both of the men staring at each other blinklessly, Beyond regaining his composure. He so rarely lost his head, and L was just the same, every blink or shuffle of feet was a symbol that only they could catch, evidence of a little win in the other party's favor. B was insane, though, had trouble keeping his head on in the first place, sifting through white noise. L was just genius, with a splash of strange, probably perceived as the usual uncanny quirks that the smart always seemed to have.

"Seeing as we have all this spare time, how about I tell you about A?" Beyond's voice sliced through the air, the tension practically tangible.

"That sounds like appropriate enough conversation." L replied easily, feeling more at ease.

A was an old wound. He was sure that enough twisting of the knife would be painful, but it was a distraction from Beyond's previous request. There was another silence; something that L assumed would become a theme, before the smirk returned and red flashed in his eyes.

"He was twisted, you know. I guess all of us had to cope somehow, we just did it differently." He was going somewhere, and L didn't quite like it.

"I found out how sick he really was when I fund him in your bed. You were sleeping, but he most definitely wasn't. Did you ever have dreams? Dreams you weren't proud of, waking up all wet and sticky…?"

L stood, turned away from his successor, and left the room completely. He wasn't having that, not when there was so much on the line, not when he had so little time. He wasn't one for playing games while the world panicked. He was fuming, and only Watari knew it when he huffed in the car like a defeated child.

"How did it go?" Asked the older man, genuinely concerned.

"This was a terrible idea. I doubt I'll be able to get any information out of him." L sighed, sipping on the tea that had been set out for him.

"Should I book a trip back to Japan?"

"No, I'll keep trying."

There was such resolve in his tone, and Watari didn't question it. He ever questioned L's will; that wasn't his job. He was there as a permanent servant, essentially, to help make L's environment as stress-free as he possibly could. That wasn't an easy job, but he had his ways, like knowing when the detective needed a certain kind of cake, that uncanny ability to get jobs done before requested. He had known L since his early childhood and had practically adopted him, thinking of him as nothing less that his own son.

They pulled into the driveway of the hotel they were using while in LA, and the Brit opened L's door for him. The detective nodded, stepped out in his worn white sneakers, and rested his thumb on his lip while he walked into the building. Stepping into the elevator, he pondered silently, eyes suddenly shimmering with this quiet tiredness.

"Was there ever a-" No, there was no sense in letting B get under his skin.

He was just a crazy man with an obsession, nothing to worry about. That was all B wanted, to plant a bomb in his subconscious, to watch him melt down into a blubbering mess. He had that capacity, L knew, after all, there was the suspicion that B had driven A to the rope, had been the reason behind such a strange act. Maybe that was how he knew.

He walked into his room, the door opening in his wake, a quiet Watari waiting for any request that he might have. There was a nod, and the older man left L to his own devices. Because he hadn't slept in days, L collapsed on the couch, face first, and let every tense muscle in his abused body slacken. Before long, he was in the haze, the state between sleep and wakeness that he spent so much of his idle time, thinking, _thinking._ He saw Beyond, scars and all, grinning at him with madness and compassion. He had never shown him those two emotions at the same time, and he didn't understand why, but those words rang through his head like a bell.

"…_wet and sticky."_


	3. Trial and Error

[[I wasn't sure where to go with this when I started, but I got a review that told me I should seme-ify L.

So there you go; seme L, poor little B.

Yeah, I feel _so_ bad for him.

I'll be introducing Light in the next chapter.

Just sayin'.

Hope you like it~]]

Trial and Error

L woke in a sweat. He stood from his bed quickly and stumbled to the shower. He couldn't have slept for very long; there wasn't even a new cup of tea on the table, which meant that it was too early – or late – for Watari to have checked on him. That was better; the last thing L wanted was company. He stripped, turned the water on, and then stood under the warm shower with his head rested against the wall. There was an all-too-familiar throbbing in his loins, something he hated. There was something so human about arousal, something that made him question whether he was cut out for the job after all. The thought was ridiculous, he knew, but it was nagging and ever present. He chose to ignore his animal need, turned the cold water on, and groaned unhappily at the discomfort.

After the shower, he dressed in the change of clothes he had brought, and called Watari. It was early, about seven in the morning, but the hospital would make exceptions for L and allow him visitation whenever he needed it. The detective saw this as a wonderful opportunity to spend more time with the murderer, perhaps to break down more of those walls. He wasn't as rattled as he had been the day before, and there was a plan forming in his mind. Perhaps the threat of him leaving again would convince him to move things along, but B was a wild card. There as really no predicting what would happen when he walked through that mechanized door.

He felt confident nevertheless as he stared emotionless at the murderer, chained in the same manner and in the same place as the day before, frowning boredly at the detective. L sat down in his usual position, and another staring contest ensued. There wasn't half as much tension as the day before, and they seemed to almost be on level ground.

"How did you sleep?" Beyond asked, and L gave a surprised look.

"How would you know if I slept or not?" L replied.

"Answering a question with a question. How rude. You can make up for it by unlocking my handcuffs."

There was a scoff, uncharacteristic, but appropriate. Both of them knew that there was no chance that L would let the deranged lunatic free. That would be essentially tossing his life away, and he wasn't about to give him any leverage, physical or not. There was a mock-hurt look on B's face, then another one of those dreadful silences.

"Let's talk about Lewis." L suggested, and Beyond grinned, slouching in his chair.

"I think we should continue the conversation from yesterday." He replied with daggers in his intense gaze.

"If you continue to be a brat, I will leave. " He had called Beyond a brat in his younger years, and this got him a surprised, hurt look, if only for a moment.

"Fine, Lewis it is, but I the deal is still on. I'll adjust it, even. A strip tease, I give you everything you want."

L was considering it. He was _actually _considering it. What was getting undressed in front of another man? He had done that on many occasions, and this didn't seem to be much different than those, save the fact that there was only one other person, albeit staring intensely. He tilted his head and chewed on his thumbnail, Beyond's eyes widening with the realization that he was weighing the notion. It would make it much easier, end this terrible game he was forced into.

"Fine." He said, then stood from the stiff chair he had been seated in, tugging on the hem of his white shirt.

Beyond was shocked silent. His mouth hung open, blinking slowly then catching his eyes open so that he wouldn't miss a second. It wasn't about sex for him, just control, embarrassment, shame. L was giving in to his demands without so much as a protest, and for some strange reason, the act of him pulling the shirt over his head made his stomach twist and mind go blank. He stared at a thin, paper-white torso before him, glancing up at the detective's face. To his amusement, there was a faint, almost unnoticeable blush on the familiar features, and he grinned sadistically.

L didn't understand it either. At first, he was just giving in to his frustration, planning on taking off his clothing to get answers, but when he pulled the shirt past his navel there was a heat flowing over his body regardless of the chill in the room. When the short was over his head and he was wrapped in white, he let his stern glare melt into an embarrassed scowl, and he tossed the shirt away carelessly.

He didn't really want to continue, but the grin he got pushed him on, bony fingers working on the button to his blue jeans. The first attempt was a failure, so he grumbled and broke the gaze he was maintaining with the other male to look at his previously bind fumbling. To his horror, his pants were tented, and he gasped aloud. No, that was impossible, there was no way he could be in such a vulnerable state in front of Beyond, the man he was trying to make himself higher than. He looked up at Beyond, who nodded subtly for him to continue.

"That's enough. Your turn." Somehow L managed to sound collected.

"Why? It's just some pants, not like-" B stopped himself when he saw it.

B was just as surprised as L. Nothing was going as planned, and both of them felt as though they had been yanked from the real world and dropped right into some otherworldly dream. L was in his own personal Hell, helpless and human, the power having been stripped away by his body rejecting his mind, Beyond was the happiest he had ever been, watching his rival fall to pieces in front of him. The confusion on the murderer's face melted into a pleased smirk, and he let his reddened eyes fall to a half-lidded state.

"I can help you with that" He purred, and L shook his head fervently.

"Please, why not? Nobody would discover us, and I don't mind."

There was another moment of deliberation, before L looked at the table separating them. The pain between his thighs was becoming hard to ignore, and he shuffled his bare feet in the spot he stood, biting his thumb nail. The red on his face was increasing in intensity as he though, weighing how terrible an idea it was with how wonderful it sounded. Nothing that involved trusting B ever ended well, but his feet were ignoring him and he stood beside the now-chuckling man.

"Move my chair so I can face you." Beyond demanded, and the metal protested against the concrete floor.

L's breath was heavy and labored, but those eyes that looked up at him with such demanding need tore away the last bit of self control that he managed to maintain. He pulled the zipper of his pants downward, blinking his unbearably dry eyes and holding them closed, then reached past both his pants and boxers to offer the smiling demon his arousal.

He hadn't even opened his eyes before B's mouth was around him, a tongue rolling over the tip, his cheeks concaving with the force of his sucking. There was a thin hand laced through black hair, shorter than it used to be but still long enough to grab onto, and L gasped aloud. It had been a very long time since he had gotten any attention, even longer since it had been from someone else, and he was completely unable to maintain his composure.

In minutes, the detective was panting, gently driving the other male's head forward and thrusting his hips. Beyond was unfazed by the moderate mistreatment, urging his face closer, tongue now pressing against his length. L couldn't help the sounds that came from his mouth, those pitiful little noises that Beyond was relishing. There was a chuckle from B that vibrated every nerve in L's body, and he made a choked noise.

"Gah! Bastard…" L managed, breathily, but he managed it, and the hand that had been softly tugging at onyx hair suddenly tensed.

B's head was driven forward, and he gagged, not expecting the sudden abuse. Before he could collect himself, there was another yank, and L was merciless. With a few shaking thrusts, the detective came, hissing then whimpering into the otherwise quiet room. He let go of Beyond's head, and the murderer keeled over in his chair, coughing onto pale concrete. His face was dark, but L tightened his mouth, readjusted his pants, and walked to where his shirt was crumpled on the floor.

"You're smug, Beyond. Tomorrow, you will tell me what I want to hear." And because he couldn't stand to feel those crimson eyes stabbing into him anymore, he pulled his shirt over his head and left the murderer, baffled by the cruelty he had shown.


	4. Wishing for Wishes

Wishing for Wishes

This was way more detailed than I had first meant for it to be.

And smutty.

Mmyep, nothing but smut.

I know I said that Light would be in this chapter, but it didn't work out that way.

I'm making some serious progress on this story, seeing as the seme L is such a popular prospect.

I appreciate all of your reviews; it keeps me going, you know.

I would like to make sure that L is in character; I would just die if I OOC'd him, and if he is, please let me know.

Oh, and there's jam.

Locks and bolts, A blindfold - just in case – arms wrapped so tightly around a slim torso that breath was all but impossible, the works. Beyond was being transferred. There was a walking, darkness, voices distorted by confusion, mild anxiety, then a car ride, then more walking. His ears popped, in a tight place with loud noises. That must have been engines, the hum of an airplane, something Beyond could easily recognize. He was going somewhere very far away.

L had promised that he would come the next day, that he would get the information he needed, but instead, he was awoken very, very early in the morning and stuffed into his restraints. B knew that the detective was behind his transfer; nobody else had the authority to move a patient without so much as a notice. B did not expect this, not at all. L was a loose cannon, always had been, and even with his extensive research and studying, his actions were still unpredictable.

Hours went by, hours and hours of nothing save the occasional drink of water offered by a frightened-sounding woman. When B thought this dear would never end, that he would remain in his painful position for the rest of his life, the plane stopped and he was wrenched out of where he was being held. There was a cool breeze on his cheeks, the warmth of the sun on his face, then he was back into filtered air. People left, one by one, twenty of them shuffling their nervous or trained feet away from the murderer.

After another long silence, someone cleared their throat, the noise making Beyond jump. There was an obvious frown on B's face, and he blinked behind the blindfold. He heard footsteps, unsteady, like someone was dragging their feet, then he was enveloped in the smell of strawberries. The frown on his lips twisted into a pleased smile.

"L…" He said, inhaling deeply. He couldn't have been more than three feet away.

"Has anybody told you that you tend to _linger_?"

"If you stay obedient, I'll release some of your restraints." The promise was everything, and Beyond shut his lips tightly, squirming against the things holding him in place.

Oh, how he wanted to be free. He was so close to L, close enough to smell him, perhaps, had he not been tied back so brutally, even close enough to taste him. Again, at least, but that was obviously a subject that L wanted to avoid. All B ever really wanted to do was make him proud, from his childhood on, up until the death of A. Those bitter emotions still lingered, and without consciously thinking about it, B had the impulse to do what his mentor said.

L had moved just that bit closer. He could smell the other male in return, the hospital aroma of soap and cleaners, something that hinted of rubber, and the ever-present scent that B had always carried, even in his earlier years, huddled on the ground at the older man's feet like a child younger than he was, listening with wide eyes to tales of the cases he had finished. He had developed a bond for Beyond; for all of his successors, really, but it tore at him to think about that boy, silly and witty, with a true appreciation of jam.

L's bony fingers reached around the murderer's head, pulling on the strap that held the blindfold on and letting the thing drop to the floor with a gentle thump. B was finally allowed a good look at their surroundings, blinking away the haze of so much time in the darkness, letting his crimson optics become accustomed to the artificial light. When he was finally able to see without his head pounding, B glanced around the room.

They were in what seemed to be a hotel room, stripped of most of its furniture. There was a large redwood table in the middle of the room they were in, two chairs and a sofa – B assumed it was used for sleeping – set around it almost decoratively. On the table was an assortment of sweets; of course, this was L's room. He didn't understand why he wasn't deep underground in some bunker, set in a room made of glass, but L was as peculiar as he was intelligent.

"I thought that getting information out of you would take a couple of days, at most, but you're rather convincing." The detective was, of course, referring to the whorish display the day before.

"I'm working on a new case right now, so I need to be here. You'll be keeping me company." There was a smile that did nothing for L's monotonous composure, B just staring back at the other man with furrowed eyebrows.

"Cake?" The standing male offered a plate to B, who shook his head regardless of the pain in his stomach.

"Very well. You are handling yourself in quite a civilized way. Care to have a seat?"

Beyond narrowed his eyes, then nodded, unsure of the other man's intentions but unable to ignore the aching in his muscles. He had been trapped in that position for so long, his feet and hands had fallen asleep, and every bone in his body creaked with the slight motion he could manage. L set the cake he had been holding on the table, undoing the black straps to the device the other male was strapped to, barely managing to slip out of the way as B stumbled onto solid ground, falling to atrophied knees.

"Thanks." He smiled, uncharacteristically, and stumbled to one of the chairs, planting himself down with a labored sigh.

His feet tingled, so he pattered them on the carpeted floor, arms still tightly bound. There was no chance L was going to take that off, regardless of how "civilized" he acted, so B didn't even think to ask about it. He stared at the display of food before him, mouth watering, but he ignored his instinct to shuffle forward and bury his face crudely in sweets. Such an act would have probably gotten him a kick in the gut, then he would be tied down. At least here he had his legs, however wobbly and weak they were.

L sat across from him, on the other side of the table, mirroring their previous state at the institution. The detective held a fork between his thumb and index finger, slipping the metal device into a cherry cheesecake. Beyond watched with wide eyes, L not seeming to notice this intensity, all of his focus on the cake before him. There was a thick silence, only really detected by the murderer who was gently tugging at the straightjacket that held his arms in place.

"You're not interrogating me." B finally said, sure seriousness on his burned face.

L looked up from the fork, a bite hanging precariously from it, mouth open. He bit down on the sweet, chewing with exaggerated motions as he thought, looking up and to the left. Those dark eyes that B was never able to match scanned the ornate ceiling, landing on the chandelier that hung above their table, casting a pleasant yellow glow on the room. B hadn't noticed it before, but the windows were boarded up, and the curtains were pulled to cover it up. There was a glimpse of wood between red velvet, so B wasn't fooled. He looked back at L who had finished his thought, and smiled with as much kindness as he could muster.

"I am." L replied easily, the simple words making B furrow his eyebrows and tilt his head.

There was another bite of cheesecake, silence that Beyond was finding to be nerve wracking, and the tension grew. It was L's plan. B was too smart to fall for silly tactics, he was impossible to intimidate, and he couldn't be reasoned with by any means. Frustrating, really, but L would remain quiet for as long as he saw fit, until B either caved, or L thought of a better way to get the information he wanted. The only problem was the growing need in the pit of his stomach, and crimson eyes staring him down.

"L, you're acting like a child." The murderer growled and L stood from his seat, bare feet pattering on the carpet.

L didn't like to think about it, but he was infatuated. It was terrible, really, to have those human feelings pop up whenever he thought about the murderer, the hate mixed with love mixed with the lusty haze he had only recently discovered. He stood, one hand stuffed into his pocket, the other reaching for the murderer's dark hair, beside him. He grumbled, turned, sighed, then turned back to B. He was so confused, unbelievably confused, his gut twisting and his mind racing.

The detective paced into the empty living room adjacent to where B was sitting, and the murderer grinned. He could smell his frustration, taste it on his scarred lips, feel it prickling on the ends of his bound fingertips. Raising his chin and still smiling sickly, Beyond opened his mouth to speak, mapping out the other male, imagining him without the white shirt he always wore.

"I'll do it again, if you want. Not much trouble, really." The words were like honey on his tongue, slipping with fluidity towards the hunched man, who turned with a blank expression, tainted only by the twitch of his frown.

That feeling had enveloped L, looking at that smug, burned face, stomping towards him and kicking the chair down. B landed on his side with a thud, scrambling away from his attacker, the grin never leaving. This was a different L than he was used to, one who didn't keep his emotions hidden behind a mask, one that B liked to think only he knew. There was thrill in red-tinted eyes when L landed on his knees and pinned B's shoulders to the carpeted floor, a gasp in his throat, caught when bony fingers wrapped around his neck. L couldn't help it, and he hated how he was losing his composure, but he kissed his successor - hard - cutting off his air supply at the same time.

B wiggled uselessly on his back, relishing every second that L, _his L,_ was abusing him without so much as a glimmer of shame in those enticing optics. He was hard in seconds, even without stimulation. L pulled away, letting the murderer breathe, chest heaving as B gasped, coughing a few times at the sheer panic that had just begin to set in. L stared down at the mostly unrecognizable man, yanking a scarred chin and slipping his tongue inside his mouth. B sucked on it immediately, the fruity, sweet flavor making him groan gently, battling L with his own muscle.

L had moved so that he was straddling one of B's thighs, arms on either side of his head, supporting him in the aggressive kiss. A knee pressed against the arousal between the murderer's legs, recoiled, then gently graced again. L wasn't quite expecting for him to already be hard, not when all they had done was kiss, but when B brought his thigh up and massaged that wonderful place, his mind was torn away from logical thought. B always seemed to have that effect.

L's mouth moved from the lip he was biting on, trailing pinkened saliva down the scarred man's chin and to his neck, just barely peeking out above white fabric. He bit down again, leaving a nasty looking mark, huffing onto the damaged flesh as the thigh moved more forcefully. He was matching B's movements, grinding his hips against both of their pants, knee pressed against Beyond's arousal roughly. The murderer was doing most of the work, though, bucking against L's leg, moving his head to the side and groaning, wanting so badly to flip them and fuck him into the carpet.

"Agh- I'd like more." B managed, and L left the mark he was abusing with his tongue, unable to stop his hips from moving, but he was glaring through a lusty-haze down at his successor.

"Why should I?" The breathy words did little for his intentions, but his eyes held strong to smoky crimson optics.

"I pleased you, you should at least have the decency to return the favor." Beyond spat, a viciousness in his tone that L wasn't accustomed to.

L's eyes widened in shock, hips resting, resulting in an angry grunt from the red-eyed man. B was still moving against him, but couldn't maintain the illusion that L was also pleased, not with those dark orbs staring at him with tired malice. B dropped to the ground, defeated. L leaned down again, a smile on his sugar-coated lips.

"Why don't I just please me?" L purred, and B's eyes snapped open.

Beyond was a murderer. Regardless of the bond they had shared when they were younger, he had taken life, all to prove something to him. It wouldn't have been so terrible if L took something from him in return, but the thought made his stomach twist. He wasn't cruel, not like B, just wrapped up in animal desire.

"Do it." B replied with the same kind of husky, breathy tone L had spoken with, making the detective shiver.

"If it makes you feel better, I won't protest." After all, it _was_ just pain. B could handle pain.

L found it hard to move. There was a thigh grinding against him again, which didn't much help the burning in his lower abdomen, but the prospect that he would take B without so much as an objection made him squirm. He struggled to his feet and eyed the table covered in sweets, heart thumping in his ears. He was going to do it; he was going to fuck Beyond Birthday in this dining room. He was having trouble rationalizing why he shouldn't, so he grabbed a container of jam he had set out to tease the murderer and loomed over the damaged man.

"If you want for me to stop at any time just-"

"Shut up." Beyond snarled, tugging at his restraints.

Of course he didn't want to hear it. There was a throbbing pain between his thighs, between both of their thighs, and B was starting to become impatient with the detective. He was taking so long, weighing his thoughts, so meticulous – as always. Beyond usually loved that about L, how he could stay rational and take his time with things, but it was infuriating, every nerve in his body protesting against the abuse he didn't mean to inflict.

L set the jam on the floor, B managing look at it for the first time, and he couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. Perfect. There were bony hands tugging at white pants, fingers hooked under the waistband of the plain scrubs. Beyond lifted his hips to let the nervous man yank them away, pulling them from his legs and into a heap on the floor. He was left in nothing but his boxers, those also falling away at the whims of the onyx-eyed man, who had positioned himself between Beyond's spread thighs. There was an apologetic look from the detective, then the jar of strawberry jam was opened. He dipped his fingers into the sticky substance, pulled them out when they were coated to his liking, then pressed his middle finger against B's entrance.

Even without penetration, the weird feeling made the murderer arch his back, glaring daggers at his idol. The finger pressed further into the tight heat, slickened by the sweet material, until the finger was all the way in. L waited for a moment, staring intently at B - who wasn't at all expecting the kindness - before pressing the tip of his finger against B's walls. There was a frustrated grunt, and as L was dragging his hand backwards, the angry noise melted into a mewl. Beyond was actually pressing onto his hand, so L massaged, confident that he had found the other man's prostate.

While B was gasping and speaking incoherently, L slipped in another finger, but the other male didn't seem to notice until he was scissored. This got him a series of angry curses, flowing into a string of pleased noised, L now thrusting and pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He added another finder, slowly shoving them in, before he found his head becoming light and the sight too much to bare; B, on his back, gasping out his name – his real name – as he pressed back on his hand. He unzipped his pants, shuffling the jeans downwards, and pressed himself at B's entrance.

Beyond had his eyes shut tightly, whimpering when the hand was removed, but the heat was there again almost immediately. L worked on his length with the jam, rubbing the tip against the writhing male, then pushed in more quickly than he meant to. B felt pain, but it was a good pain, the pain of making his idol feel good, of taking away another bit of his purity. There was a moment of heat-filled stillness before B was rocking angrily against L, in control regardless of who was on top, and L replied by thrusting in again mercilessly. The both made pitiful sounds in unison, pressing against each other with animal ferocity. Beyond was grunting viciously, cursing again, then he hit that spot, the place L had been paying so much attention to before. B lost himself in euphoria, arching so that the next thrust pounded there, _right there, _the place that made the back of his eyelids flash white for a moment, that sent jolts of desire through him.

"God damn it, Lawliet, harder!" Beyond barked between grunts, and L sped up, thrusting more forcefully into him, smashing against the magical nerve on his insides.

L was gasping, groaning, thrusting erratically, then his hand wrapped around the other male's length, pumping roughly while he found himself on the edge. B felt heat on his insides, the last bit of sticky friction disappearing, and the thought that he had made his mentor come drove him into oblivion. He pressed into L's hand a few times then climaxed against the white shirt, back colliding with the carpeted floor.

They huffed, L with his forehead rested against the straightjacket Beyond was still trapped in, B rolling his head to look at the tainted jar of jam that had since been knocked over, sticky red melting into the grey-colored floor.

"Let me out of the jacket." Beyond managed after a while, and L grunted.

"I'm not stupid."


	5. The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Sorry for the wait, I've been working on Stop Motion…

This chapter has Light in it, y'all~

In the next chapter, there will be something tasty.

"What is the date?" Beyond asked with a ragged voice, staring blankly at the male sitting on a couch across from him.

"April 24th." L replied easily, sipping on a cup of tea that was more sugar than anything else.

"Huh… I must have been misinformed…" B looked baffled, staring at his bound hands with wide eyes.

He had since been let out of the straightjacket, which even L agreed was an immoral thing to keep him in for long periods of time. His hands were still tightly bound, hooked at the wrists with handcuffs that lacked a chain, so that he didn't strangle L with them. He also had a shock collar, set so that it would immobilize him if he tried anything dangerous, which Beyond thought was dreadfully fitting.

He had been perfectly obedient, though. Every session of questioning seemed to end with sex, so L had stopped trying. It wasn't as though the information was all that vital, at least not at the moment. B's case could wait, the Kira case could not. Neither of them really knew why L hadn't sent him back to LA by then, why he had spent more than two or three days in the detective's personal space. B liked to think it had something to do with L's sex drive, but that was only a fleeting desire.

There was a knock on the door and L stood from his seat, motioning for his prisoner to follow him. Beyond rose from his seat, following L as he approached the door and peaked through the eyehole at whoever had knocked.

"One moment, Watari." He said briskly, then slumped over to Beyond, grabbing the cuff of his black shirt.

He took him to the room that he had designated for him, opening the door and standing with impatience. B eyed him, but entered without much argument, and the door was closed and locked behind him. His room was pitiful, much like his cell at the asylum, consisting of a bed and a sink, everything painted white. White was infuriating, but he was near L, and was offered more intelligent conversation than had been available for years so he didn't argue. He plopped onto the bed, laying on his side and trying his best to listen to L's conversation through the walls.

L had returned to the door, opening it for Watari, who let in a few more people. They all looked at the hunched man with weary glances, L stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning from them. He took a seat in a chair, motioning for the other people to take their own seats. He addressed each of them in turn, hesitating before naming the attractive male who refused to sit out of courtesy before his father had sat.

"Light-kun." L said with a smile, and Light smiled back at him weakly, plopping down in the chair that B had been resting in not minutes before.

"Ryuzaki." L had to hold back an amused scoff, sipping on lukewarm tea.

They discussed the case for a while, L only interjecting once or twice. His thoughts were elsewhere, in the all-white room that held the murderer, crude images dancing in his head. He was staring blankly at the wall before him, totally ignorant of Light, who was asking if he could use the restroom. A hand waved in front of his face, and he snapped to lucidity, staring up at the male who was looking back with a concerned look on his attractive face.

"Yes, yes. Down the hall." L replied, returning to his thoughts as Light trotted away.

Light walked down the hall, lined with about three doors with one at the end. The one at the end had a series of locks on the outside, but Light resigned to ignore it. He slipped into the restroom, turning on the faucet and wetting his hands. He couldn't help but wash them, having such a strange onset of neurosis since he began meeting with L. It was as though there was actual blood on his hands sometimes, and he felt like he would be found out if he didn't scrub away the evidence. The idea was ludicrous, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

Drying his hands off on the towel hanging from a rack in the ornate restroom, he stopped suddenly. There was humming vibrating through the wall, coming from the locked room. Light stood straighter, listening closely to the noise, a shiver going up his spine.

He couldn't contain his curiosity. Glancing down the hallway to make sure the hunched man wasn't there waiting for him, he stood before the locked door, staring at the latch with wonder. The humming was still there, making his stomach twist with dread, but his hand reached up from his side and slid the lock to the side with a gentle click. As though a record had been paused, the humming stopped suddenly, and Light let the door slide open.

Beyond was sitting cross-legged on the bed, smirking up at the stranger who had invaded his – and L's – privacy. He admired the attractive form before him, the slender, strong build and handsome face, lips parted with surprise. B looked from his expensive shoes and khaki slacks to the neatly-tied tie around his neck, then directly into hazel eyes.

The onyx haired man glanced to the dancing letters above Light's head, grin dropping and eyebrows furrowing with confusion. There were no numbers, no equation to work out, just like there was nothing above in his reflection but a name. Light Yagami. He looked back at the other male's face with an almost worried expression.

"Light, is it? I do hope I'm pronouncing that properly." Light was perplexed at the British hint behind perfect Japanese, but he stepped into the room and let the door click closed behind him.

"How do you know my name?" He asked, tilting his head, genuinely curious.

"You're a murderer, aren't you?"

The question, deflection from Light's inquiry, made Light chuckle uncomfortably, but there was a glint in his eye that Beyond knew all too well. He had lived with killers for a while and could spot one in a crowd just with a glance, even with Light's mask. It was hard to peg at first, but when he had asked, the façade slipped for a moment.

"Don't worry, Light, I don't judge." B said, his voice enticing enough to be terrifying, and he stood from the bed.

"Though, you have walked into the lion's den." He was approaching the brunette, who's hand was patting the wall, searching for the doorknob.

"Say a prayer…"


	6. Under The Inluence

Under the Influence

I know that, according to the manga, B is dead by now, but who's keeping track, eh?

This is based around the time that Light passes L's test, with the "L, do you know" letters and starts working with the investigation team, in case you were wondering.

B is a horndog, he really is, and I like to assume that geniuses have the tendency to suppress their more animalistic needs, which is why he's so successful at seducing these people.

I mean, what kind of guy lives for years with a super model and doesn't get her pregnant at least once?

A sterile one, that's what.

Or somebody with latent homosexual tendencies and an inhibited sex drive.

Look at me, using logic~

Enjoy.

_What the fuck is L doing with some guy chained up in his hotel?_ Light couldn't rationalize it. He sucked in his stomach when bound hands reached towards his torso, squirming away and subtly searching for his exit. Beyond wasn't ignorant to his attempt, but his piercing, red-tinted eyes caught him. Light knew that color, it resonated in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't place it.

B glanced up at the fluttering words above the younger male's head, furrowing his brows and considering. He had no numbers. _He had no numbers_. Beyond had never seen anything like it. This stranger must have been very intelligent, with that flicker of anger hidden behind such a careful mask. Beyond touched his chest, the muscles tensing at the contact, and the hand that was groping for escape found the knob.

"No." The scarred man said calmly, moving his hands to Light's shoulders and easily flinging him to the ground.

It felt nice to assert physical dominance after so long. Light toppled to the floor, immediately scrambling to his feet, only to have the breath knocked out of him by a well-aimed kick to his diaphragm. The brunette wheezed, rolling onto his side in the room that looked so much bigger than it actually was. His feet could almost reach the door, and his back was against the wall near it, staring under a plain, hospital-issued bed.

"Why has L let a murderer share his space? Or did he lead you in here as punishment? That would definitely be interesting." Beyond was thinking aloud, pulling at his handcuffs with hope that he could wiggle his way out of them.

Light had struggled into a sitting position against the soft wall behind him, searching desperately for something to use as a weapon. Everything was nailed down, attached to the room, which was as unnerving as the smile that crept onto Beyond's burned face. Light looked down at Beyond's feet, shooting out his leg and managing to make the black-haired man topple to the floor.

He caught himself with his hands awkwardly, grunting as the metal dug into his wrists, and Light shot up, tumbling against the door when one of his ankles was caught in the vice-grip of bony fingers. B was on his knees, dragging the thrashing male into his grasp, who caught the spongy floor in his nails, but to no avail. Light flipped onto his back, glaring at the pleased smile B wore.

The raven haired man didn't hesitate to grope Light through his pants, getting him a horrified gasp and more squirming. B moved so that he was straddling Light's knees, keeping them pinned below him and rubbing with tender resolve. Light, whose face had twisted into a confused, angry grimace, pushed on B's shoulders, sitting up. It was an unwise decision, and B latched onto the younger male's tie with his teeth. When Light tried to pull away, the tie closed around his throat, and he had to take one of his hands away to loosen it, which allowed Beyond to push closer.

"Get off of me!" Light hissed through clenched teeth, a physical reaction to stimulus making him quiver against the hands that worked at him through khakis.

B was almost pressed against him, rested on the middle of Light's thighs. The younger man was trying to buck him off my pulling his knees up. The effort made B move closer, and he removed his hands to wrap the damaged fingers around the younger male's tie. B ground, letting out a feral growl, Light holding onto the front of B's scrubs tightly. His hips were moving, too, his arousal too demanding to ignore, and he pressed his forehead against the chest before him.

Confident that Light wasn't going to struggle away, Beyond let go of his leverage, letting the fabric slacken around the brunette's throat. They were both gasping into the silence around them, Beyond moving his hands over the tense expanse of finely-tuned muscles before him. This stranger, whoever he was, had such a pretty face, such an alluring frame, an intoxicating mixture of smart and dangerous. There was something in the back of the maniac's head that hinted of a schoolgirl crush, but the nails raking down his back and pulling for him to move more forcefully shot it away.

B had full control of the pretty frame under him, and he imagined it was L writhing against him with strained, fear-fueled desperation. Light, who usually tucked his feelings behind a mask, wasn't hesitant to be violent with the man who was pleasing him so nonchalantly. He bit through hospital blue, digging his teeth into Beyond's chest brutally, and the older male grunted with appreciation.

"You seem tense, Yagami." B taunted, bearing down on him and rotating his hips.

"How do you know my name…? Did L tell you?" Even before the words had Left Lights lips he knew they were preposterous.

His hands yanked at B's hips, rolling his own up to meet the delicious friction, and his head went fuzzy. He hated not knowing, not being able to rationalize things, to have his logical processes hindered by anything unsafe. It was why Light avoided sex as much as his body would allow him, giving in to Misa's pleading demands only when it was too hard to ignore, but B was totally different.

It wasn't about sex with him, it so rarely was. B was looking for control, to take purity, to release the animal that only showed its fangs during heated happenings. Light was most definitely not the star student with excellent morals that he made everybody think he was, and B knew because the thing that rocked against him was brutal, manipulative, narcissistic.

Because he wanted to see Light work a little harder, and because he knew that the murderer would appreciate the control, he pulled his hands from where they rested on a dress shirt and awkwardly moved them over Light's head. He pulled backwards, shifting them so that Light was pushing against him, grunting at the sudden motion. B wasn't disappointed, Light immediately smashed their pelvises together, rubbing Beyond forcefully into the floor.

With another few thrusts, they both climaxed, Beyond shoving the stranger off of him forcefully. He was still wracked with the occasional convulsion of pleasure when he dragged himself onto the bed and shot a victorious look at the baffled male, who still knelt on the floor. Light considered doing something cruel, but he didn't like the idea of getting his hands dirty, so he stumbled to the door.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" Light managed to make his voice the collected and somewhat cheery tone it usually was, hand on the knob.

"No. You may call be B."


	7. Said the Joker to the Thief

Said the Joker to the Thief

L is a big meanie!

B likes it, though, so it's all good.

L noticed the wrinkled clothing and slight shake in Light's demeanor. He also noticed the huff of breath as it left his lips, the half-lidded glare he gave the detective when he grabbed the coat he had set on the back of the chair and went to leave. He stopped with his hand on the knob, usually perfect posture tilted against the wall beside him, and glanced at the confused faces that stared back at him with worried expressions.

"I think I might have come down with something. I don't feel well…" The brunette said with a weak smile, and he left before his father could offer him a ride.

Light needed time to think. He was absolutely baffled, tugging on his coat at the bus stop and hanging his head as he boarded. Ryuk hovered at his side; other passengers morphing right through the monstrous form beside him, mildly curious at Light's disheveled appearance. He inquired, but the male refused to reply, seeing as they were surrounded by people.

The event had been more than surprising. Not only was it strange that L had someone other than his trusted sidekick Watari in his living space, but he was in what looked like a rubber room, hands tied, covered with scars. Light wondered if L was more than just strange, if, perhaps, his hostage was some kind of sex toy.

That was ridiculous, too, L using another human being for those darker purposes, but Light was having trouble finding an alternative to his theory. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that B had shamelessly taken advantage of his physical need. For some strange reason, the murderer wasn't particularly angry at him for his questionable actions. After all, he seemed just as keen on pleasing him as he did pleasing himself, which was uncharacteristic for a sexual sadist.

If Light was more impressionable, he would have been both horrified and nauseated, but the climax had been wonderful, and he couldn't help but want to sneak into that cramped room and do it again, only without letting the scarred man have as much power. He tossed that thought away; such things were bad to think of, especially for the king of the New World.

Just then, he was torn from his calculating by the buzzing of his phone. The picture that Misa had taken flashed before Light's optics, and his mouth hung open with disbelief. He hadn't given much thought to the red tint in B's eyes until he saw that same color in the picture before him. This stranger in L's clutches had the eyes, which meant that he also knew that something was amiss. After all, if someone as dull-minded as Misa found him out by using the eyes, somebody as manipulative as B didn't need a Shimigami to tell him why he had no numbers. B had to die.

When the rest of the investigation team had left, L immediately went to B's room, finding that the lock had been left undone. His eyes widened with horror and his hand slowly twisted the handle, the button that triggered B's shock color held firmly in his other hand. He let the door swing open completely before he glanced into the room, B lying on his bed and fiddling his thumbs.

"Hello, Lawli." B said in a chipper tone, smiling with battered lips at the detective who scowled back at him dangerously.

"I suppose you already know about my little guest." The murderer purred, swinging his legs from his bed and stooping before his captor with pseudo-obedience.

"What did you do to him?" L asked, holding up the trigger with a threatening air.

"We just had a little bit of fun-" L pressed the button.

Beyond keeled to the floor, muscles stiffening. He let out a guttural grunt, L releasing the button again and B convulsing a few times with the residual electricity. He was twitching on the ground for a while, utterly horrified by the inhumane setting, struggling onto his knees and glaring up at the hunched male. He scowled and pulled himself onto the bed shakily, lying on his side and letting out a labored breath, mind adjusting to the agony that was slowly leaving his battered form.

"What did you do to him?" L asked again, just as calmly as he had before.

"I didn't hurt him, if that's what you're asking. Really, he did more damage than I did." Beyond's words were breathy and labored.

L's thumb hovered over the button for a while, but he turned from him and left, leaving the door wide open. B eyed the doorway with disbelief, standing on rubber legs and staggering into the hallway. L was sitting in his usual seat, stacking sugar cubes in front of him, popping one into his mouth every once in a while. Beyond tilted his head and was totally ignored, so he shuffled unsteadily to the seat he had been in before they were interrupted.

"I never finished telling you about A." B tried, almost tentatively, but L wasn't listening, stacking another bit of sugar from the box beside him.

"You had fallen asleep when you had that cold, and I begged and pleaded to help the nurses take care of you. Of course, Roger finally caved, and I sat by your bed all night. I had fallen asleep changing the rags of cold water when they became too hot, an attempt to bring down your fever, and woke up when I heard noises." He paused, smiling subtly, L still stacking.

"It was A. He had climbed into bed with you and was-" Beyond went stiff again, huffing furiously through his nose because his jaw refused to move, body slackening and twitching in his seat.

L was still stoic, building what looked to be a brick wall with sugar cubes, his unused hand hovering over the button. His cold eyes never once left the thing he was constructing, not even when Beyond growled with intimidating rage. B slipped, more rattled than he had been before, from his seat and circled around the table that separated the two men, stooping at the detective's side.

"If I can't tell you, I'll show you." B was on his knees, under the table, bound hands fidgeting with the button of L's pants.

L refused to acknowledge that he was there, but he didn't press the button, and B took that as an invitation. There were lips on L's growing arousal, and he had to fight the need to press into the contact. A tongue snaked out to meet the gentle sucking, a sugar cube in the detective's hand hovering above the structure he as creating. He cleared his throat to suppress a groan when B's head bobbed downwards, one hand stroking the base, the other pressing against the top of his thigh.

"You're distracting me." L managed to sound uncaring, and B tongued the tip roughly in protest.

The burned man went as low as he could manage, eliciting a choked gasp from the male he was pleasing, humming. Because L was nestled into the back of his throat, he couldn't help the pained whimper that left his tightly clamped lips or the hand that tangled itself in onyx hair. He forced B up, then back down again, the murderer gagging around him and squirming with thrill. His hands left L's arousal and slipped to his own need, swallowing around the shaking male.

"No. Stop." L yanked his head backwards completely and pressed the button under his right hand, Beyond trying his best to muffle a scream.

L held it for longer than he had originally intended, standing and kicking the chair from behind him. He knelt over the convulsing sadist, scowling and tugging at B's pants. When they were past his hips, just low enough for L to reach, he didn't hesitate to thrust into the still convulsing man, who whimpered with agony.

The detective had brought the remote with him, setting it down to thrust into the tight heat again, hunched so that the table didn't interfere with his motions. B was mumbling incoherently, trapped between agony and euphoria, hardly able to distinguish one from the other. His back arched, his lungs tightened, and he pressed against the length that was smashing against his prostate without so much as a thought to his comfort.

"You were - hah! – above the blankets already, and he was very quiet about it. You were the loud one." B was taunting him, pushing into the thrusts that L couldn't stop if he wanted to.

"He pulled your pants down and started stroking-" L pressed the button again, and B went tense, becoming impossibly tight around his tormenter.

L grunted, pausing to savor the almost painful grip around him, and when the murderer went slack again he continued his merciless pounding, moving both of his hands to yank on his hips. B's eyes had closed tightly and he had lost the strength to return the pressure, feeling as though he would burst from the mixing sensations. The electricity was making him hyper-sensitive, the pain was driving him into the darker parts of his mind, and the sheer cruelty that L was showing was like a victory to him.

"When you were… Hard, he… Started sucking… It was – hng – quite shameless." He had recovered enough to continue his speech, loving how reactive L was to the incessant torture.

"He didn't seem to notice… Me until it… Was over- Agh!" L had triggered the shock collar again, half to get him to shut up, half to feel that indescribable tightness again.

They were both close, L surprised at how quickly torturing his captor was bringing him to the brink, B relishing the monster that he had forced out of his idol. L thrusted again a few times, stroking the painfully still form under him, brushing his thumb over the tip, slick with a sticky substance. L shoved into the other male a few times, pressing the button that did nothing for either of their composures, and came into the tightness that surrounded him, pumping B until he climaxed breathlessly against his chest.

"I beat him for it…" The red-eyed man said after a long silence.

"I beat him for touching you."


	8. Of Mice and Men

Of Mice and Men

[A/N: All of you darlin' reviewers that I can't reply to; te amo. Te amo mucho. Sorry for the delay; my life started happening… To make up for it, I wrote you guys a LxBxLight smut chapter~! My first groupsex, so let me know if it sucks. Pun totally intended.]

"If you will excuse me…" Light stood, not even waiting for acknowledgement before he slipped out of the room.

He couldn't hold out any longer. He kept on telling himself to stay put, to not give himself away, but it was as though something itched on the back of his neck. He had waited for three days, trying his best to find out who B was, but to no avail. It was as though he never existed at all, the brunette assuming L had wiped away any of the evidence that could link back to him. It made sense; if his assumption was correct, B was some kind of criminal.

Light initially went to the bathroom, staring at the door with thoughtful intensity. His hand slipped into his coat pocket, fingertips brushing over the box cutter he had managed to sneak into the building. It was his line of defense, his leverage, but his heart was still in his throat. Glancing down the hallway and catching the sound of L droning on as he explained something that the other members weren't intelligent enough to grasp, Light walked to B's door.

The lock, oddly fastened on the outside, had to be fumbled with, and Light wondered why L hadn't made it more secure. His hands were shaky as he manipulated the door open, and he glanced into the blindingly bright room. B was laying on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and bound hands folded on his chest. He didn't even look away from the ceiling that his red-black eyes were stabbing into when Light closed the door behind him, one of his hands grasping his weapon tightly.

"Hello, Light." He spoke in English, and the British behind the greeting was more prominent.

"Hello, B." The other male replied, also in English.

"Just couldn't keep away, I see." He didn't flinch or break his gaze when Light began his tedious approach.

Beyond had a dainty chain binding his handcuffs to a railing that was screwed crudely to the wall. It was about four feet long, and allowed him to move around with moderate comfort, but he was confined by it to the bed. Light calculated the distance carefully, the little bit of math calming his nerves, suddenly under a gaze that made him feel like a nervous child on a stage. He pulled the box cutter from his pocket and let it click open, the blade shimmering maliciously.

"Tell me your name." Light snapped, face stoic.

"I pegged you as a gun person. Perhaps you couldn't get one through L's security."

"Your name."

"You like it a bit more impersonal, don't you? Not quite the hands-on kind of fellow."

"Tell me your name!" Light hissed the words through clenched teeth, trying his best to sound both calculating and menacing.

"What are you going to do?" B suddenly shot up in bed, teeth showing through his damaged lips with a sadistic smile.

"Flay me like an animal? Come on, do it. I'm waiting." There was something smug in the way he challenged so shamelessly, but his chain jingled with the warning of restraint.

Light stared the scarred male down, then faltered and let his angry expression melt into a demeaning glare. B tilted his head, his smile falling, then became suddenly disinterested. His feet, which had been planted on the floor, lifted, and he returned to his previous position.

The brunette was at a loss. Apparently, this man was impossible to intimidate. Light watched as B ignored him completely, the rise-and-fall of his chest oddly mesmerizing. He felt stupid, his entire plan falling to pieces at the hands of someone who had his psyche unraveled. The infuriating thing was that the only thing Light knew about him was a letter. Everything else was a mystery; not even his father's files could help him in his search. He grumbled and turned to leave, stepping towards the door as he pulled the little blade back into its holster.

"Coward." B said at nothing in particular, and Light snapped around.

He lunged, the little blade slashing at the air. B was in a sitting position again, catching an inexperienced wrist between both of his bound hands, pressing one of his thumbs on the tendon roughly. Light, who was forced to kneel with one leg on the bed, dropped his weapon, and a look of horror washed over his face. The murderer was too quick for him to avoid, and the blade was at the brunette's throat, digging in gently.

"You're a narcissist, aren't you, Light? Don't worry, so am I." He was smirking victoriously, moving his scarred face forward and ghosting his lips over the other male's jaw.

B's muscles suddenly became rigid, and he flopped forcefully backwards, writhing with a grunt of agony. Light stared with disbelief at the tension and awkward twisting he displayed, wracking his mind for an explanation. Suddenly, a shiver shot up his spine, and he turned slowly to see a hunched man in white holding a little remote with nothing but a dial and a button on it.

Light stepped away from the now-twitching murderer, hands palm-open towards L, who had a look of disappointment painted on his features. Beyond rasped out something incoherent, and L approached him without even a hint of fear. He pried the box cutter out of B's hand, which was tight around it with residual electricity.

"May I speak to you in private?" L demanded sternly, and Light followed him out of the room with a bowed head.

They could hear the other male cackling wildly in his cell, something haunting behind it, something that made the hairs of the back of Light's neck stand up. L closed the door and looked up at the brunette from his slouched position, expression unreadable.

"I must say, I didn't think that you would invade my privacy _twice_." L glanced at the door, the howling laugh still emanating from behind it.

"In hindsight, I should have put up more preventative measures. I don't understand what possessed you to go back to him in the first place, though." This time, the detective had a question behind his words.

Of course, there was no way that Light could answer him without incriminating himself. He had come back to try and get a name out of him, to have the information to kill him, to intimidate him into submission. His eyes were apologetic with a touch of guilt, and he averted his gaze like a punished child.

"I don't know, either." Light replied, and L narrowed his eyes just a bit.

"Please refrain from snooping any longer." L said before turning to leave, expecting for the brunette to follow immediately behind, but his feet would not obey him.

"Come back, L! You're not going to tease me like that and just leave, are you?" B shouted through the door, and Light had to suppress the urge to ignore L's threat.

He sighed almost noiselessly and followed after the hunched detective, hurried footsteps pattering in the echo of B's frustrated shouting. The sound melted away as they approached the end of the hallway, and L smiled half-heartedly at his other guests, all of them looking at Light, who showed no sign of the nervous tension he had displayed towards L. They sat in their respective seats, the tension becoming thick with silence.

"I think this meeting is adjourned." L said, staring intensely at Light, who moved to stand.

"Not you, Light-kun." The other people warily left, Light becoming stiff with regret.

"I don't suppose you could explain why-"

"It doesn't concern you." L had pulled a plate of neatly sliced watermelon from the table and held it in one hand, using the other to pick one square of fruit up and examining it carefully.

"Were you intending to kill him?" L asked after a little while of being stared down.

The detective placed the box cutter on the table and popped the watermelon into his mouth, chewing as he waited for an answer. Light looked as though he was being persecuted, shifting in his seat nervously and breaking his gaze to look at the floor. L could almost feel the rumble of cogs turning in his head when he opened his mouth.

"He's scary." The younger answered truthfully, glancing up then down again apologetically.

"So you brought a weapon into his vicinity? I thought you were smarter than that."

"It was for protection."

"No, the locks, handcuffs, and shock collar are for protection. This is for intimidation." He took another bite of the fruit.

"Were you successful in getting the information you wanted?" L said through his mouthful.

"I wasn't trying to get information." _ No, but you already know that._

L grunted half-heartedly, obviously writing off Light's statement as a lie, and he knew better than to challenge it. After a while of waiting, L suddenly stood and slipped into the hallway, returning with B trailing behind him. He had the box cutter tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, yanking his captive along by the chain.

"Maybe you'll have more luck questioning him than I have. Go on." The first part was directed towards Light, the second towards B.

He yanked roughly, and the murderer tumbled to his knees, kneeling before the brunette, who scooted away from him, taking the chair with him. He looked at the sadistic grin on B's face, then the expectant look on L's. He didn't know what L wanted for him to do, feeling as though the black gaze was stabbing through his eyes and sifting through his brain.

"Questioning him?" Light sounded genuinely perturbed, and a little bit afraid.

"You smell like a stripper. Is that vanilla?" B had shuffled forward while L and Light were staring each other down.

"Mind your manners, B." The red-eyed man looked at L from over his shoulder with a pout that was more disturbing than anything else.

"Are you serious? This one is quite the whore. I had him practically begging-" Beyond fell forward, landing on his face and curling into himself on the floor as the electricity ravaged his body.

"Go ahead." L offered, returning to his chair and setting the button on the table.

B twitched then recovered, the panicked breaths he was gulping down slackening to a calmer pace. Light stared down at him unsurely, Beyond lifting himself into a kneeling position and grinning up at the brunette with a disturbing kind of amusement. He shuffled forward more and settled his chin on Light's knee, teeth shown with a daunting kind of obedience. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against the other man's groin with a quick, fluid motion, and Light jerked in his chair.

His face was flush, but he couldn't take his gaze off of the scarred male who was so blatantly rubbing him through his dress pants. A shiver went up his spine when he realized that his focus had been completely broken, and looked over at L, who gaped back at him with furrowed eyebrows and parted lips. They were locked in their disbelief, L's hand edging its way to the remote tediously, but was stopped when Light let out a ragged, strained noise.

As the other two were trapped in their gaze, Beyond had hurriedly undone the youngest male's pants and was lapping unapologetically at the quickly growing arousal. Light thought he would melt, face flush with rage and embarrassment, choking back another noise when he was taken completely in by a hot, pulsating throat.

"Get him – fuck – off…" Light's breath hitched in his throat and he laced his fingers through onyx hair, unable to maintain his disgusted façade with a skilled tongue rubbing against him.

L was baffled still. Of course, B was manipulative, and he knew by experience just how his tongue could make someone melt, but he was surprised that Light had even let him get that far. He was expecting to see Beyond kicked onto his back and an enraged Light storming away, teaching both of them a lesson. It didn't happen, though. Instead, he watched with something between horror and thrill as his number one suspect was sucked off by a murderer. The black-haired male suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy, and he stood, totally unnoticed by both of them.

He stood behind the sadist, falling to his knees and feeling a tight coiling in the pit of his stomach. Bony hands tugged on B's hips, and he grunted around Light's arousal, a whimper escaping the youngest male's throat. Light had his eyes screwed shut, unaware that L was yanking on blue scrubs. L ground on B, who braced himself with his bound hands on the chair, rubbing backwards against L's teasing. Already throbbing from the shameless display before him, the detective undid his pants and shoved roughly into his captive.

B's scream of agony was lost in the blowjob, and he forced the pain to melt into pleasure as the awkward angle allowed for L to smash directly on his prostate. B sped up so that the pressure matched, and he was having trouble keeping his head. There was another hand that joined Light's in messy black hair, tugging backwards as the murderer spasmed with torment at the surging electricity.

Light managed to pry his eyes open, watching B tense and twitch at the torture, gasping aloud at the shameless way L was fucking him. The display made him squirm, but Beyond was released from the grip of pain and was immediately sucking, gentle noise vibrating through every fiber of Light's being. The two hands that were trapped in his hair were both pushing him down, the murderer gagging around Light, the sound making the brunette groan gently.

When he gagged, he also tightened, and L relished the delicious friction, his mind becoming nothing but a haze. They were all moving faster, making noises they were too enveloped in lust to be ashamed of. Light came, followed almost immediately by the other two, all of them heaving in their spots and slumped against whatever was holding them up.

B spat crudely onto the floor, hissing through his teeth when L pulled away. Light brought his hands to his face and groaned with exasperation into them, utterly ashamed of the happenings. The detective was busy readjusting his clothing, and stood on shaky legs over the other two males.

"You hurt me." B said tiredly, but there was a joke behind it.

"I know." L left them alone in the now-heavy room.


End file.
